


Mistletoes and Furballs

by steveandbucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Established Relationship, First Christmas, Fluff, Happy, Holidays, Implied Sexual Content, Kittens, Living Together, M/M, Mistletoe, Pets, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveandbucky/pseuds/steveandbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Steve and Bucky's first Christmas together in the modern world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoes and Furballs

 

“I saw you at the mall yesterday,”

Steve chokes on his orange juice and coughs. He ignores the weird look Bucky’s giving him. “You did?” he asks, hoping his nervousness is not apparent in his voice.

“You and Stark and Thor were wishing everyone a Merry Christmas,” Bucky says around a mouthful of pancakes doused in an unhealthy amount of strawberry sauce. “On one of those big overhead advert screens,”

“Oh, right. That,” Steve smiles weakly. “It’s a publicity thing. I got out of it last year, but it was harder to come up with a valid excuse this time around.” He shrugs.

Bucky looks at him for a moment. “What were you doing last year?”

“Looking for you, mostly,” Steve doesn’t meet him in the eye. He gets up and places his plate and glass in the sink, then turns to grab Bucky’s. “I wouldn’t have even realised it was Christmas if it wasn’t for the decorations in the streets and the jingles in every single shop you walk into.”

To his surprise, Bucky laughs. “Yeah, it seems to be a much bigger deal now, doesn’t it? I saw like three different Santa’s at the mall.”

Steve tries not to think about the last Christmas Eve he spent with Bucky as he washes up the plates, but his mind involuntarily brings up the memory anyway. The two of them had dragged a semi-decent tree to Steve’s apartment and thrown on whatever decorations they could find (from his mother’s collection), and then settled together on the couch with a thick blanket, eggnog, and the sound of the burning logs crackling in the fireplace.

“We should do something.” Bucky speaks up, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “I mean, for Christmas. To celebrate.”

“Really?”

Bucky nods, and Steve smiles. He dries his hands quickly and leans with his elbows over the breakfast island, resting his face in his hands. “You mean do the whole get a tree and make the turkey dinner and exchange presents and such?” he asks, failing to mention that he’s already thought of a present for Bucky and started planning for it.

Bucky laughs. “You should see your face right now. You look so excited.” He leans over and presses his lips firmly against Steve’s.

“I’m just happy to be spending it with you again,” Steve says, grinning happily and stands upright again. “Do you want to go get a tree?”

“What, right now?”

The blond man shrugs. “Why not?”

Bucky groans. “I’m going to end up regretting this, aren’t I,” he says, feigning annoyance, but he still willingly follows Steve out the door, grabbing their jackets on his way out.

________

The six foot tall tree stands proudly in the corner of their living room, decorated to perfection with all sorts of ornaments, colourful lights and gold tinsel wrapped around it. It had taken them hours to pick a tree out of the hundreds, until they finally both agreed on the perfect one, and then spent hours shopping for the decorations. Bucky had even bought some mistletoe when Steve had been busy looking at the different types of lights, and kept hanging it at different spots around the house, then casually pointing it out and pulling Steve in for a kiss.

Steve glances at the tree every once in a while as he paces around the living room. There’s a few boxes sitting underneath, and he knows three of them are things they picked up together for Sam and Natasha, who have been invited to spend Christmas Eve with them. Two days ago, a box wrapped in red paper with white snowflakes on them and a label with his name on top appeared under the tree. Today there’s a second one sitting next to it, with the same wrapping paper and label. Steve stares at the presents, knowing that they’re from Bucky, and for the first time in his life wishes he had X-ray vision.

Still, he has bigger things to worry about.

“I’m telling you, he’s figured it out,”

At the other end of the phone line, Sam sighs loudly. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a drama queen?”

“The other day he caught me going through the pet food aisle at the supermarket.” Steve says, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. “Last night, we were watching TV and an advert with these little kittens came on, and he said ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we had a small pet like that?’”

“Okay, I see your point.”

Steve drags his free hand over his face. “What am I going to do?”

“For the love of God, Steve, so what if he’s figured it out?”

“It’s ruining the surprise!”

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes at Steve’s high-pitched voice. “At least you know he’s going to like it, right?”

Steve considers it for a second, though there’s still a worried frown fixed on his eyebrows. He jumps a little when the front door unlocks, and he mutters a hurried ‘I gotta go, talk soon,’ to Sam before he hangs up on him and turns to face Bucky with a somewhat forced smile on his face.

“That was Sam, he said he’ll bring the pies for the dinner,” he lies as he slips his phone in his back pocket and makes a note to tell Sam about it later. “Oh and he said they’re bringing Clint along too, because, in his words, Natasha asked him what he’s doing for Christmas and he replied ‘When’s that again?’”

Bucky laughs. “Okay then,” he shrugs his coat off and hangs his keys by the hook on the wall next to the door, before walking towards Steve. He stops right in front of the man, and looks up at the ceiling, smirking cheekily.

Steve follows his gaze and breathes out an exasperated sigh. “How do you _do_ that?” he asks as he looks at the green leafy decoration hanging right above him.

Bucky pulls him close and kisses him, long and slow, and smiles against Steve’s lips, who’s eager to respond. “I can’t believe the mistletoe still works,” he asks teasingly, as his sneaks his arms around Steve’s waist.

Steve shoves him a bit. “Shut up. This is the last time you’re getting me with it.”

“That sounds like a threat. Are you threatening to kiss me?”

Steve rolls his eyes and breaks away from the embrace.

“Are you planning your payback? Should I be worried?” Bucky calls after him, watching as the man disappears into the hallway leading to their bedrooms, and laughs out loud when Steve flips him off.

_____

“Steve,” Bucky mumbles sleepily as soon as he feels that the space next to him in bed is empty. “No, stay. No running. Too cold.” He says as he grabs onto Steve’s arm and pulls him back, wrapping himself around the man.

Steve chuckles. “I’m just… I was going to make breakfast.” He wriggles out of Bucky’s firm grasp and gets out of bed again. 

When Bucky drags himself out of bed a good half hour later, he finds the kitchen empty; no coffee, no breakfast, and no Steve – only a note on the fridge that says ‘went out for milk’. He shrugs and gets a pan out of the cupboard, takes the eggs out of the fridge and starts making breakfast, humming to himself as he does.

The front door opens and closes with a soft click, and Bucky smiles to himself. “I’m making breakfast,” he calls out. “You know, the thing you left-” Bucky stops mid-sentence, his gaze falling to the tiny furry animal which Steve is holding in his hands.

“Merry Christmas? I couldn’t go get him tomorrow, so it’s a day early, but I thought it didn’t matter,” Steve smiles sheepishly. He walks around the breakfast island and takes the spatula out of Bucky’s hands, instead placing the kitten there. “It’s your present, Buck.” he adds, to aid Bucky’s apparent confusion.

“You…” Bucky looks down at the kitten. It’s tiny, barely four months old, with ginger and white fur and adorable olive-green eyes. “You got me a cat?” he asks, a slow smile spreading slowly on his lips as the kitten purrs at him, and he can’t help but pet it gently.

“Why are you so surprised? You didn’t know?”

Bucky looks up at Steve, a deadpan expression on his face. “No. How would I know?” his attention drifts back to the cat, which is so small that it fits perfectly in both his large hands. “I can’t believe you got me a cat,” he grins now as he lifts the kitten up and holds it close to his face. “He’s so soft, Steve, look,”

Steve laughs and steps back. “I thought you’d figured it out, when you said that thing about wanting a pet,”

Bucky sets the kitten on the floor, and watches as it walks around the kitchen, familiarising himself with the environments. “I was going to get you a pet,” he says as he steps closer to Steve and snakes his arms around the man’s waist. “A dog, to be precise. I looked around and found the perfect one, too-”

Steve frowns at him. “What about the boxes under the tree? There’s like three of them that you got for me,”

“Yeah, okay, I went a little overboard.” Bucky shrugs and kisses him. “The big box is for the dog, though, technically. I went out and bought a bed and food and water bowls and the likes, and then found out I couldn’t get him until the 28th.”

“Really?”

Bucky nods, smiling at the excited glint in Steve’s eyes. “Yeah, well, I guess the surprise is ruined now. And you’re going to have to wait a few more days for it.”

Steve is grinning from ear to ear, and then he’s wrapping himself around Bucky and pulling him close for another kiss. “It doesn’t matter.” he wriggles out of Steve’s embrace and picks up the kitten which had sat at their feet, purring up at them. “Let’s go figure out a name for this little guy for now,”

“Can I name him Steve?”

“No,”

“Stevie?”

“Bucky, no,”

Bucky grins as they sit down on the sofa. “Cap?” he says. The suggestion is met with a deadly glare, and Bucky giggles. “I don’t know, we’ll decide later.” He gets up and gets the two other boxes from under the tree and drops them on Steve’s lap. “Your turn,”

He sits opposite Steve on the couch, petting the kitten which has settled comfortable on his lap and watches as Steve carefully opens his presents. The first one is met with a chuckle and he takes it to be a good sign.

“Seriously? Where did you even find these?” Steve asks as he puts the knitted earmuffs over his head. They’re blue in colour, except for the round part of the ears, which is knitted in the pattern of Steve’s shield. “You know I’m never going to wear these in public,”

“You totally are,” Bucky grins at him. “Come on, you look so cute,”

Steve takes them off and leans over, placing them on Bucky’s head instead. “There. Better.” He says as he starts opening the second box, and a quiet ‘oh’ falls from his mouth as he unwraps it. He’s met with a couple of his old sketchbooks, the pages filled with sketches and drawing he’d made before the war, and a brand new one, along with a set of sketching pencils.

Bucky watches as Steve takes out his old sketchbook, opens them carefully and looks through the pages. “I thought you might like to have them back,”

Steve nods. “I hadn’t even thought about it, you know,” his fingers trace the outlines of an old sketch of Bucky, the very first one he’d ever drawn. “Haven’t felt like drawing anything since I woke up,”

“Well, there’s a blank one in there too.” Bucky shifts closer to him. “If you feel like it now, I’ll pose for you.” He says with a slight waggle of his eyebrows and Steve’s cheeks turn pink. Bucky kisses him, soft and slow.

“Thank you,” Steve almost whispers against his lips.

“You’re welcome. And thank you for the furball,” he says, looking down at the sleeping kitten on his lap. “I can’t believe you think I’m capable of taking care of a cat,”

He tries to pass it off as a joke, but Steve can see right through it. “Of course you are.” He cups Bucky’s cheek in his hand and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “I trust you with my life, Buck. I know no one will take care of this cat better than you.”

“You’re such a sap, Steve,”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Merry Christmas, jerk,” he gets up and marches off

“Wait, wait!” Bucky carefully places the cat on the sofa, and follows Steve into their bedroom, but he stops dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him – Steve, standing in the middle of the room, with his hands on his hips, and a mistletoe hanging from his belt buckle.

Bucky bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Steve.”

Steve shrugs, and pulls him close. “I just thought to myself, ‘What would Bucky do?’” he states proudly, and Bucky nods.

“Well,” he says as he pushes Steve on the bed and kneels in front of him. “You’re not wrong about that,”

 


End file.
